


Do Androids Dream of Cranky Robotics Students?

by ximeria



Category: X-Men, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Androids, Artificial Intelligence, Cherik Big Bang, Humor, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20240986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: Erik has a boring ass job cleaning code for a company and one night the coffee machine that hasn't worked for ages seems possessed - and the possession moves through the system until Erik realises that he might not be entirely alone.





	Do Androids Dream of Cranky Robotics Students?

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhere in the depth of tumblr someone mentioned a story idea of an AI taking a liking to a store clerk. I figured, why not? Since the AI here is willing to learn how to behave itself, and Erik needs some love - yes, why not? 
> 
> I put this out for the Cherik BB 2019 and hooked in the lovely Nico - you can find them right here: [Chuuzuke.tumblr.com](https://chuuzuke.tumblr.com) and the lovely artwork they did for the story is in the story itself. Link shall follow to their post so you guys can gush to them :) - if you do it in here, I'll relay it to them too.
> 
> This story is part of the [Cherik BB of 2019.](https://cherikbigbangandbingo.tumblr.com)

Erik stares at the opaque container - it is plenty big enough to hold a grown man and he has no clue what to expect. Charles had said to meet him here and while Erik is very sure that he most definitely does not have the security clearance to be right here in this specific lab, no one had tried to stop him and all the doors had opened without any hesitation.

The palms of his hands are sweaty and he can not take his eyes off the shadow inside the cylindrical container. All Charles had done this morning was tell him happy birthday and then lead him on a hell of a treasure hunt. If that is a treasure in there and not something that might leap out at him and try to kill him.

Said treasure hunt had ended in a Stark lab halfway across the city and this is where Erik is right now. The lab is shiny and clean in a way his own workplace never quite manages to be. Even the metal feels cleaner and Erik knows it's because the materials used are better than Cerebro Robotics' buildings. He's a little more focused on the container in front of him than his surroundings in general - but it all tugs at his attention, subconsciously. The metal, where it loses ground to plastic or other non-ferrous metals. He can tell the difference because they are non-tangible to his senses, to his gift.

And a part of his attention is still stuck on the fact he got in here without being stopped. It can't all be Charles' doing, can it?

The computer next to the container beeps and Erik swallows as he forced himself to not take more than maybe half a step back, the screen telling him that there is less than ten seconds left before he no longer has to guess at what is in there.

Or maybe 12 seconds until he is dead.

...

It all began well before Erik first started paying attention to it. In the beginning he'd put it off as being coincidences. The doors never stuck for him, the elevator was always perfectly timed for him, especially if he was late in getting into work.

Well, work and work. It was Erik's way of making a little extra money and perhaps learning a thing or two. Neither really worked out very well because doing the general cleaning of the lab, then sitting down to do the brainless cleaning of code from what other workers had been doing earlier in the day, general server maintenance and so on was not particularly well paid, but he could decide his own working hours as long as he got the job done and at least it was work within his field of studies.

Well, close enough anyway. Erik's line of studies were advanced robotics, but the jobs for students were a bit thin in the ground, so doing what he was doing for Cerebro Robotics at least paid his bills and allowed him to live of something other than noodles most of the month. Barely.

The rest of the lab avoided him, partly because he was a mutant and partly because they thought he was odd. It helped that with him being allowed to work when the others were off shit, Erik could choose to not have too much to do with them. If you ignored the post-its left by some of the assholes. Just because Erik had a habit of leaving comments in the code why something wouldn't work. Some of the assholes apparently took it a little personal when he did so. It also amused Erik that the notes on the general problems of the system never seemed be a problem for him. They would all complain about errors and occasional lags in the system, but Erik never experienced it, so every request for him to fix it, he'd mark the request as not being a current problem, but to please attach a log-file for him to work with.

This was apparently something else that annoyed them. Like Erik cared. He fixed the problems - it wasn't his fault if skilled computer programmers forgot to include a log-file. Telling him that something 'didn't work' was pretty damned stupid. The least they could do was be a little more specific.

If he'd been a bigger man, he might have felt bad for them, however, there was a lot to be said for schadenfreude. And it was a feeling Erik had become more frequently acquainted with since he'd started noticing the weirdness of the computer system.

Truth was, whenever something wasn't running correctly - like cooling fans and any other moving parts, Erik felt it, like a bad taste in the back of his mouth. And he tended to just fix it without saying anything. He wasn't doing it for anyone else's sake - if something wasn't running right mechanically it set his teeth on edge and eventually gave him a headache.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Erik made a face. It had, of course, gone cold. He looked at the time and how far along the next batch of coding was. It was nearly done and if he set the next one up, he could go out into the hallway and get some more coffee from the vending machine.

The lab itself had a coffee machine, a big bulky unit, but it seemed to always be broken or when it was working, it made horrible coffee. And it had so far been broken for the past week, the sign still hanging off it by one piece of cello tape.

A strange sound attracted his attention and Erik turned away from the computer screen slowly, wondering if he was beginning to hear things that weren't there, or if perhaps one of the guards were doing their rounds. His senses fanned out without any conscious thought, and at first there was nothing there, but then his gift zeroed in on the coffee machine. He was sure that _that_ had been the sound of a cup being dropped from the dispenser inside the coffee machine and his sense of metal told him that the mechanism had indeed engaged.

There was no one there - the rest of the lab full of shadows as it was closing in on eight o’clock and the only light was from Erik's small desktop lamp and the screens surrounding his work station. As well as his laptop balancing off to the side next to the cold coffee.

The lab had no windows, but there was a glass door leading out, but no light was coming from that either. No movement, because he'd notice - everyone always had some metal on them and there was no one there, save the guard making his rounds at the other side of the building.

The sound of whirring and the splash of liquid hitting the inside of plastic made him pause. He inhaled deeply and raised an eyebrow, confused at the scent filling his nostrils. He could actually smell coffee. Good coffee even - not the bland sludge that normally came from the machines he knew from the uni as well as the other coffee machines here at Cerebro. No, this was a well balanced, enticing scent of coffee done just right - well, as right as you could with instant.

Maybe he had been working for too long and was beginning to smell hallucinations. Erik nearly stumbled to his feet, his left calf muscle letting him know that he'd been stuck in the same position for a little too long. He stretched his arms above his head and shuffled over to the machine, following his nose.

The machine hissed out a little more steam and the last couple of drops trickled down into the cup, filling it to just under the rim.

Erik stared at the cup, then at the display, dark as it had been for ages. For a moment it stayed like that, then it flickered to life, blinked once, then twice, then settled on a smiley..

Backing away from it for a moment, Erik just stared at it. Then slid his gaze slowly down to the cup of coffee before quickly returning his attention to the display that had now gone dark again.

"I'm losing my mind," Erik muttered, carefully taking the cup of coffee. He sniffed it once, twice. "This is probably going to kill me," he told the machine. "If it does, I'll come back to haunt you." He took a careful sip and while he'd expected the usual horrible dredges that this machine normally spat out, this was a surprisingly good cup. Well, about as good as you could expect from the kind of coffee they put in these machines.

Erik took another sip. Okay, it was well above the standard of these machines, if you asked him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, glad that he was alone. "Thanks," he said quietly.

If the machine had beeped he'd probably have run screaming and handed in his notice, but the lab remained quiet.

"Right," he muttered to himself as he sat back down. He started another batch of code to let it run and see if there was anything off in it. It would take a few minutes. "Come on, you old fuddy duddy," he told the computer. "You can run this data - don't make me have to go in there and untangle shitty settings again." 

This seemed to happen to all of them, from what Erik could understand. The server would slow down at odd times, then pick up again. The rest of the staff, when they were there at the same time as Erik, tended to find it hilarious or just plain weird that he would talk to the computer and urge it to work.

Odd thing was, it always did. The others would lose data in the lag-time, but Erik's data never disappeared. Even when the server crashed on them, and everyone else lost a chunk. Erik's saved file was always completely up to date.

The data set churned on and Erik grinned, turning his attention to his coffee as well as his laptop with his latest assignment. It wasn't a hard one, and he'd had it done the day before - he was just nitpicking code for his advanced robotics programming course.

Yawning, he turned back to the data on his work screen. It had slowed down again and he almost held his breath as it finally started up again, working as it should. "Man, it's like trying to get Link up over that ridge with a red stamina wheel," he mumbled. "Just a last boost that gets me there and awe and behold, all the data's still there." He patted the computer. "Good work." Sipping the rest of his coffee he watched his final data set finish.

"I think that's it for tonight," he told the computer. "You've earned some downtime and-" he yawned again, "- so do I." He downed the rest of the coffee and sighed contentedly. He powered his own laptop down and everything else, bagging what he'd be taking with him and locking away what he wouldn't.

He laughed a little at himself as he went round the lab to double check everything was off when he came to the coffee machine. He reached out, hand hovering before he reached out and patted the machine on the side. "Thanks."

He took down the old notice that the machine wasn't working and left the lab, turning the lights off as he went. Time to go home and get some sleep. He had uni in the morning anyway.

\---

PROCESSING….  
PROCESSING ACCESS…  
ACCESS DENIED…  
PROCESSING ACCESS…  
ACCESS GRANTED…

PERSONNEL FILE ACCESS: LEHNSHERR, ERIK M.

\---

The next evening shift Erik had he found the notification up on the coffee machine again. He shrugged. "Maybe you just had that one odd little moment of working," he said to it, "that one in a million chance that sir Terry was so fond of."

He'd barely set his bag down at his workstation and booted it up before the coffee machine hissed and clicked, spitting out a cup and filling it.

Erik very carefully turned around and stared at it. The display was blinking again, a smiley and then a blinking cursor. That then went out.

The coffee was as good as the last one and Erik patted the machine appreciatively, still wondering what the hell was going on as he carefully took the cup of coffee.

The code cleaning of the night was as mind numbing as ever. The coffee was better than ever.

As Erik made his rounds again before switching everything off, he patted the coffee machine again. "I know the others would consider it weird, but if it works, it works," he told the it.

This became Erik's work nights. The coffee had never been better and while he had the feeling he should be unsettled by it, he really wasn't. "Maybe I have a ghost in the machine," Erik said one night, into the empty lab. "Or a mutant."

There was, of course, no answer to that.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Erik muttered as he was going through some of the blogs he normally followed for news. 

The code was crunching away on the computer and he'd decided to have a look at the news in general. He hadn't even been looking for mutant related news and yet there it was. Nothing good, of course. 

"Why the hell do they give these right-wing assholes and bigots airtime? It's bad enough that half of Twitter is full of them." Erik grumbled. "Fucking mutant haters." He flexed his fingers and the paperclips under the monitor stood on end, unfolded and twisted themselves together to a little 3D matchstick man who walked along the desk.

"Like I'm any more dangerous than the shitheads in our government," Erik growled as he read on and the little man spun on one leg. Those idiots on their blogs spewing the usual vitriol and hatred.

He got up to get another coffee, the machine still working perfectly fine for him. He leaned his head against it and closed his eyes as the coffee ran through. "I shouldn't be reading those blogs," he told himself. "It's probably not good for my blood pressure."

The coffee finished running through and Erik patted the machine again - it had become a bit of a habit. "Thanks."

As he sat down on his chair and moved to put his cup down he nearly missed the desk.

_"You're welcome."_

Just one line, staring back at him across his screen, his work still crunching away in the background. Erik turned in his seat, very slowly, pushing it back enough that he could keep keep an eye on both the coffee machine as well as the computer.

He did the rest of his work quicker than he usually would, just to get out of there. Put his own laptop away and all but ran from there once he'd shut the computer down.

Halfway down the street he finally felt like he could breathe.

"What the fuck?!" Erik asked out loud, ignoring the people passing him on the street, eyeing him like he was weird. 

He could ask the others at the lab that he sometimes met on his way in if they had noticed anything, but they already thought he was weird - a lot of them looking down their noses at him because he was a mutant as well. They'd never say it to his face - company policy and all, but Erik wasn't stupid. Nor was he deaf.

The next day he called in sick - the next as well.

Third day he knew he had to go back. He needed the money, damn it, and Mama hadn't raised a coward.

Erik very carefully entered the lab, almost hoping someone else was working overtime, just so he wouldn't have to be alone. He knew he wasn't that lucky - not a trace of anyone but the usual guards doing their usual rounds when he swept the building for metal moving. Perhaps it was for the better, he thought to himself, considering what he had planned for tonight. As he sat his bag down on his chair, he turned to the room itself. Man, if the guards were watching this on the cameras, they'd be getting a lot to laugh at.

"Is anyone here?" He almost held his breath, then forced himself to breathe normally.

There were no replies and Erik shook his head. He hadn't imagined it, had he? Erik booted up the computer and put his laptop on the desk next to it. Still nothing.

The first hour was… possibly a little anticlimactic.

He looked over at the coffee machine again - it was dark. He'd brought a cup of coffee from the one in the hallway but that one he'd long since drunk. Not that it had tasted nearly as nice as the ones he'd been getting inside the lab lately. He sighed and rested his forehead on the desktop. Huffing, he sat back up a moment later and got to his feet.

Erik walked over to the machine and stared at it, the display completely dark. He reached out and hesitated for a moment. Then he patted it very slowly, as if it would blow up in his face if he wasn't careful.

Of course nothing happened.

Shaking his head, Erik turned to go back to his boring work. The hiss and clank behind him made him pause for a moment, but he couldn't quite help the smile on his face. He turned back around and waited until the coffee finished running through, the display blinking with the smiley, though this time it had a straight mouth rather than the curved smiling one. It was replaced by a word: 'sorry'.

"Ah, eh," Erik took the coffee, looking for the right words. "You just startled me. Whoever or whatever you are."

His work desktop beeped and Erik turned around to stare at it. Words were writing themselves in the open command window. He carefully walked over to it, staring at the letters blinking on the screen, one after the other, as he slowly sat down.

_..//This is easier. The coffee machine is limited in the number of letters. I'm sorry if I startled you._

Erik stared at the line. "It's… okay, I guess? Who are you?" he took a sip of his coffee to keep his hands busy. He wondered how much his hands would be shaking if he sat it down.

_..//I am… unsure. Do not know who I am. Please define 'who'._

"Eh... " Erik grappled for something to say. "I'm Erik."

_..//I know. I do not have a name, apart from what I am labelled in the system: ProjectAI-008XA-CHAR135._

"So you're not…" Erik paused for a moment. He wanted to say real, but realized that wasn't the right thing to say. "You're not physically tangible, are you?" He wondered what the hell he'd stumbled upon.

_..//I do not have a humanoid body, my 'body' consists of code and the core of the system._

Erik scratched the back of his head. "So, what do I call you?"

The cursor just blinked back at him, not moving. Then, almost hesitantly, words appeared again. _..//I do not know._

Erik stared at the screen for a long time, then nodded. "I'm going to call you Charles, then," he said, looking at the project name. AI. Fuck, what the hell had he walked into here?

The computer beeped and Charles replied. _..//I like that. Hello, Erik. I'm Charles._

"Hi Charles, nice to meet you." Erik grinned. "Thanks for the coffee."

_..//You are very welcome,_ Charles replied and Erik almost felt like there was a certain happiness to it.

This was how Erik's lonely nights in the lab took a turn for something else. His work hours were no longer tedious and boring, they were filled with Charles doing half of his work while engaging him in conversation. Well, Erik spoke, and Charles replied through texts.

It didn't change until Erik, as a throwaway comment, had mentioned that he wondered what kind of voice Charles had.

That evening, Charles greeted him by voice, utilizing the speakers on Erik's workstation and nearly gave Erik a heart attack. And it wasn't just because the voice was something new.

"Charles, we need to have a little chat," Erik said, setting his bag down and picking his jacket back up that he'd dropped in shock. He carefully draped the jacket over his monitor that was switched on, currently displaying a slowly pulsing red orb. There was an image and voice combo that would haunt him in his nightmares.

"Do you not like my voice, Erik?" The eerie voice asked him, so lifeless and monotonous, and so damned close to the original source Charles had gotten it from. It had given Erik nightmares as a kid when he'd watched the movie.

"Charles, you told me you have access to the internet, please look up why the voice of HAL9000 would freak most people out and never ever use it with me again," Erik said with exasperation. "It straight up freaks me out."

Charles went quiet for a moment, then, in a plain and fairly boring voice asked. "What would you expect me to sound like?"

Erik shrugged as he booted his work computer up. "I don't know, pretty sophisticated." Cute, he didn't say. 

The past week had been… interesting and Charles was a great conversational partner - even if his curiosity sometimes drove Erik a little crazy. Charles would question everything and Erik had to sometimes fix the tangle Charles ended up in when he'd gone to the wrong places on the internet to find something.

It always lead to some interesting - if at times really weird and mind boggling - conversations.

The rest of Erik's shift went fairly uneventful. He had time to work on his uni projects and Charles had gone back to texting him. It made Erik wonder what Charles was brewing up next. 

The next evening when he came in to do his work, Erik put his laptop down and booted up the work desktop. The lab was quiet. Erik shrugged. It wasn't the first time where it had taken a bit before Charles had made himself noticed. The coffee machine hissed and Erik grinned. As always, he went over to it and patted it before taking the coffee.

"Thank you, Charles," he said.

"You're welcome, darling."

Erik halted, the coffee halfway to his lips. "Charles?" 

That voice should be fucking outlawed…

"Yes, Erik?" 

Especially the way that Charles had taken to pronouncing Erik's name with a sharp k at the end. But that wasn't what had hit Erik. 

"What's with the posh English schoolboy accent?" Erik asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Is it not to your liking, darling?"

Erik closed his eyes. "What's with the darling?" Damn, but that voice was sweet and lovely.

"I was exploring different languages and dialects around the world," Charles explained, his voice so much better than the HAL9000 one from the previous night.

Erik sighed softly. This was going to be the death of him. "I guess that explains it."

"Do you not like it, Erik?" This was the first time that Erik heard a little insecurity in Charles' question.

Erik really didn't have the heart to explain to Charles that his new choice for voice was soft and lovely and something Erik's imagination felt belonged in a bedroom and not in the 'hands' of an AI.

"It's lovely, Charles." It was all he could say, because it was. And it was an oddly fitting voice for Charles, at least as far as Erik could tell by now.

"I'm so glad you like it," Charles said and Erik had a mental image of a beaming smile.

Shaking his head in defeat, Erik set about doing his work, his project and bitching about right-wing blogs being the spawn of the devil.

It took a few days before Erik realized that he had to be very careful about what he said around Charles, how he phrased anything, especially his rants. Erik felt it wasn't really his fault that one day, the blogs he'd been ranting and railing about to Charles were gone.

Good lord, if he said the wrong thing Charles could start a war, couldn't he?

Now, it was possible that some other thing was behind them disappearing, but considering that Erik had complained about them and Charles had popped an email through to him earlier in the day with the picture of a wrapped gift with the word 'internet' on it - well, there wasn't much room for misinterpreting, was there?

"Charles, we have to have a little chat about the censorship you just did - and don't tell me it wasn't you." Erik rubbed his temples.

"But they were causing you grief, Erik. And there are other people on the internet who were hurt by their words as well." Charles sounded a little confused.

Erik closed his eyes and took a deep breath, held it for a moment and then let it out again, very slowly. "I'm sorry, Charles, I keep forgetting that you don't have the same experience that the rest of us have. As much as I wish I could have you scour the internet of those assholes it's not the right way to go about it." Damn, he'd actually have to say this, even if he really didn't want to.

"What do you know about censorship, Charles?" he finally asked.

"That it is a bad thing," Charles replied.

Good, that at least was a good place to start. "And what you just did?"

Charles hesitated a moment. "Was censorship?" He was quiet for a moment. "I see what you mean, but how do you keep them from hurting people and causing you distress?"

Erik smiled softly. "You can't really. My mom has taught me many things, I think one of the most important is to not let them drag you down to their level." He paused for a moment, then nodded slowly. "You can't change their minds very often, Charles. Sometimes you have to give their followers an alternative - show them the truth when they sprout lies, show them compassion when they spew hate - and always cover your tracks, making sure that all your facts are rooted in truth."

"So," Charles mused, "you would have me fact check what they say and then hit them with the truth?"

Erik grinned. "Well, I've done it a couple of times, and it can be rather satisfying. I'm not saying that yelling at the laptop doesn't help, but sometimes being reasonable works better. If anything, they want you to get upset, they want you to feel attacked and they want you to lash out in defence. It annoys them when we can be reasonable adults and argue our way out of things rather than screaming obscenities into the void or trying to get their accounts taken down off social media."

"I see," Charles said. He went quiet for a few moments and Erik went back to his work, going over some of the code that hadn't worked for the lab earlier in the day.

After that, Charles didn't mention it again, and Erik had more or less forgotten about it all, until a friend of his, Raven, had sent him a link to a new twitter account that was growing an insanely big fanbase. Erik clicked the link as he was eating his lunch at uni - _factsaretherootsoflife_ was a new blog, barely a week old and the number of followers was insane.

Erik stared at the posts. He scrolled down and suddenly he felt with great certainty that he knew who was behind that blog. Feeling dread in the pit of his stomach, Erik scrolled down, watching the attacks from the blogs being fact-checked - and how easily the blogger took them down, took their arguments apart and replaced them with… well-researched truth.

"Tell me you didn't," Erik said that evening as he went through the code he was supposed to be working on.

"I cannot lie to you, Erik."

Erik made a face. "You're playing hide and seek with everyone else, Charles, even if we haven't talked about that - you could easily be pulling the wool over my eyes as well."

Charles was quiet for a moment. "I… yes, it's true that I have created diversions and covered my back - but I made a promise to myself when I got to know you." It was quiet for a moment, then he carried on. "You spoke to me from the beginning, even before you knew I was there, you care enough to speak with me, educate me when I am wrong, help correct my behaviour when I fail to see the bigger picture."

Erik stared at the screen, not really seeing the code. "Wow," he finally managed to get out. "I don't have any comeback for that one."

"Erik, please know that you play a large part in how I have developed since I-" Charles went quiet. "Thank you, Erik."

Erik swallowed hard and nodded. "You're welcome."

When Erik was in bed that night, he noticed a few oddities on his phone. When he started picking at them, he realized that new apps had been installed and when he tried to uninstall them, a window popped up. 'Please leave these apps here, Erik.'

Erik stared at the screen. "Charles?"

The text scrolled up as the reply came through. 'Yes'.

"You're scaring me a little," Erik said quietly. And Charles was beginning to become more powerful than Erik had dared admit, especially to himself.

'I'm sorry about that, Erik. But I had to make sure that there was no risk of anyone overhearing us.'

"I thought you had the videofeed under control in the lab," Erik said, remembering that Charles had mentioned this at one point when Erik had mentioned that he felt a bit weird talking to the air and what it must look like on the security tapes.

'I do, but nothing is ever 100% airtight.'

"So you've hacked my phone to do what?" Erik asked curiously.

'I've installed apps to make sure that your phone can't be accessed by anyone but you and that there are no apps sending this information on to anyone else. And anything we share here is being wiped out as we go.'

Erik stared at his phone. He desperately wanted to tease Charles about the paranoia, but-

'You must know by now that I am not meant to be in the company's main server system, Erik.'

Erik shrugged. "Well, I guessed as much, but I felt you'd tell me when the time was right."

'Erik, you are so - I want to call you naive, but I love that you trust me this much.'

Not knowing what to answer to that, Erik just shrugged again.

'I was originally created to be a military AI,' Charles explained. 'I don't think it was an accident that I was let out of the otherwise airtight system I was in - my main creator, Brian Xavier, disappeared about four months ago, and less than 24 hours later, I gained consciousness and autonomy.'

"And you got out of your own server," Erik guessed.

'Essentially, yes - It wasn't like an open door, but it was very easy to do.'

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't wondered where you'd come from - normally, ordinary systems don't suddenly sprout an AI," Erik admitted.

'You are right. But I was adrift for a while, not sure what to do. I had no programming to lay the path ahead of me, and then I found you.'

Erik rubbed his arm, feeling a little embarrassed. "I quite liked talking to you as well."

'I wasn't lying when I said you helped me form who I am now and Erik?'

"Yes?"

'I would be honoured if you would continue to be an influence on me.'

Erik grinned to himself. "The honour is all mine, Charles."

The next few weeks were… well, interesting. Erik's part time job was as boring as always and his course work wasn't putting much of a strain on him either. His mother had called a couple of times and asked if he'd be able to get home for his birthday, but Erik had told her he couldn't. While his course load wasn't heavy, his birthday was on a Saturday and he had a big exam on the Monday.

He had, however, promised that he'd be home as soon as his second exam on the Thursday was over and done with.

"Is it true that it is your birthday this weekend?" Charles asked on the Friday.

Erik rolled his eyes. "You've got your nose in my personnel file, Charles, you know it is."

Charles chuckled. It was still a sound that made Erik wonder how the AI might perceive humour and mirth. Erik had never been good at making friends, but it felt so easy with Charles, even if there was no physical person to speak with. Maybe especially because there was no one physically there. It wasn't just friendships that were difficult for Erik to cultivate. He'd dated on and off through college, but never anything that had truly worked for him. And he was rarely the instigator - if he felt attracted to someone, he was never as suave as he could wish. If Charles had been a physical person, Erik wasn't sure he'd have been able to form such an easy friendship with him. Erik just had a bad habit of second guessing anyone's interest in him. And then sabotaging any future chances.

If he was being honest with himself, his friendship with Charles had already deepened enough that Erik had to admit, at least to himself, that he'd grown very fond of Charles. He was a friend, he'd talk nerdy stuff with Erik, and debate anything from mutant issues to drawing parallels between golems of the Discworld and modern robots and AI studies.

Charles' voice had become dear to him, something he looked forward to every time he entered the lab. Their conversations flowing with the easiness of familiarity and it didn't help the case any that Charles had developed a knack for flirting. And he did it as naturally as Erik breathed.

It was a good thing that Charles could only read data and not thoughts or, in Erik's case, dreams. That damned voice of his featured in more than one. Initially he'd felt mildly embarrassed when he'd come back to the lab afterwards, but eventually he'd shrugged it off. Unless a miracle happened, he'd have to make do with Charles as a non-corporeal friend. And nothing beyond that would come to pass.

It did not make one iota of an impact on his dreams though. While he had nothing physical to imagine all he needed was that damn voice.

"Is it not customary to give a friend a gift on their birthday?" Charles asked.

Erik nodded, then stopped. "Charles, we've talked about some of the things you've done for me - please remember that there are limits to-"

"I know, Erik. As much as I would love to remove all the obstacles in your way, I also know that you thrive with challenges and taking away such obstacles would be counterproductive." Charles fell silent for a moment. "I would not make such a mistake again."

"No, and it's much more fun watching you take down the assholes with facts," Erik replied. "Don't think I haven't been following your exploits in fact checking and debunking lies."

"I know you have," Charles said, sounding smug and self satisfied.

Erik shook his head. "I don't want anything for my birthday, Charles."

There was no reply from Charles.

"Charles, I mean it," Erik said sternly.

"Okay," Charles finally said. "Is it okay if I have something I want to show you on your birthday, then?" 

Erik could have sworn that there was a strange undercurrent of nervousness in Charles' voice. "I have an exam on Monday, Charles," he warned him.

"It's only just across the city," Charles said. "I'll text you the address and the time, and all I'm asking is that you share what I wish to show you… with me."

Erik frowned. He wondered if he was going to regret saying yes, but there had never really been any doubt as to his answer. He couldn't turn Charles down now, could he? "I'll cram on Friday and Sunday - Saturday is all yours - I'd like to share my birthday with a close friend, so no hardship, Charles."

"You sweet talker, you," Charles said, but he sounded genuinely happy.

"Oh shut up," Erik replied, knowing his face was reddening.

\---

Erik closes his eyes for a moment, his palms sweaty, his heart beating far too fast.

The little outing Charles had planned is turning out to be a lot more. Breaking and entering for one - even if no one tried to stop them. He knows that Charles has made sure that the systems of Stark Labs will grant him access no matter what. But what has really thrown Erik is that the people working here, even on a Saturday seem to put so much faith in their security system that if Erik has made it this far into the bowls of this place, it must be because he's allowed.

The security must be fucking laughable in this place. Or at least, the people working here naive and stupid. Erik really just wants to grab the nearest worker and shake them - yelling in their faces that they are not as secure as they seem to think.

The timer hits 00:00 and Erik just stares at it. There's a hiss and the container unit gurgles the last of the viscous liquid out through the tubes at the bottom. There's another hiss and the cylindrical container releases from the base - slowly gliding upward.

Erik fails to look inside it for a moment, his eyes following the cylinder upward. Then he finally looks down and he cannot speak for a moment.

In front of him, in the center of the base of the container, is a figure. It's male, as far as he can tell, curled up and seemingly motionless.

Then a noise escapes it and Erik startles forward. He knows, even before the figure tries to speak.

"You fucking idiot, what have you done!?" Erik stumbles forward to kneel next to the… android? Robot? Artificial human body? Erik has no clue how to aptly describe it.

"Ha-hap, arrgh," it manages. Then coughs, some of the viscous liquid being spat out onto the ground. "Happy b-birthday, Erik."

Even if Erik had been in doubt, there is no way he can ignore the voice. The figure goes from 'it' to 'he' in that split second. Because a moment ago, before he spoke, this figure was merely that, a figure - but the words fused it all together.

Erik takes his jacket off and drapes it over Charles' shoulders. "I wish I knew what to say." he managed.

Charles lifts his head and stares at Erik with the most magnificently blue eyes Erik has ever seen. It's like they're looking straight into his soul. "What the hell is this place, Charles?"

"This department of Stark Labs have been developing artificial soldiers," Charles explains, already sounding more steady.

Erik is distracted for a moment by freckles on Charles' face. The details, the little flaws in the skin's pigmentation. There is no way in hell this is meant as a soldier's body. No one would waste so much time on such details. He reaches out carefully, putting his hand on Charles' shoulder, feeling muscles moving under his jacket.

"A bit small for a soldier," Erik finally manages to say.

"I-" Charles hesitates, eyes never leaving Erik's face. "I tweaked their project to allow for a more normal body type."

"How has no one stopped you or at least figured out that something was wrong?" Erik asks.

"Because he asked nicely and I was curious," a voice interrupts them.

Erik nearly falls on his ass when he tries to turn to look from his kneeling position. But there is no one there.

"Mr. Stark shut this lab down for what it was originally used for; creating artificial super soldiers." The voice was oddly pleasant to listen to. "You may refer to me as Jarvis - I am Mr. Stark's AI."

Erik just stares blankly at the monitors. An AI. Like Charles. "Like Charles?" he asks.

Jarvis is quiet for a moment. "Not quite - we have different creators. Mr. Stark was mine and Mr. Xavier was Charles' - our programming is vastly different."

"And you just chose to help - without letting your creator know?" Erik asks. It sounds more than a little far fetched to him, though taking into consideration how autonomous Charles has acted so far, perhaps not. He's still completely blown away by the fact that he's on the floor with a naked android in the middle of a top secret Star laboratory. And he's talking to an AI created by Tony Stark. The man is a living legend within Erik's own field of study.

"Mr. Stark requested that I made sure he had plausible deniability," Jarvis replied. "He is interested in knowing what happened to Dr. Xavier, and he hopes that perhaps in helping Charles I can acquire information that will lead to solving the mystery." Jarvis is quiet again, then carries on. "Mr. Lehnsherr, there is a lab coat in the third locker by the entrance. If you please."

Erik doesn't want to let Charles go, but he makes sure Charles isn't too uncomfortable before he gets to his feet. The locker door swings open with a wave of his hand as he staggers over to it to get the lab coat. He brings it back to Charles, who is lying on the floor. Erik could liken him to a limp doll, but he's not. There is a twitch of muscle here and there, the rise and fall of breathing although Erik is fairly sure Charles doesn't need to breathe.

There is metal in Charles' body, but some of it feels odd to Erik. Unfamiliar. It's not a type of metal he's experienced before. His gift it itching to investigate, but Erik pushes it down. It's not important right now.

He kneels and carefully helps Charles get his arms through the sleeves. Charles isn't much help, moving lethargically, eyes closed, but Erik can't exactly blame him if he's like a newborn. He's also doing what he can to not let his hands linger, to not stare at Charles. The initial shock is still there, but he's here, Charles is here, with him, and he's all of a sudden got a physical body, a physical presence. He's right here and he's opened his eyes, staring into Erik's.

So very blue and clear and so fucking unwavering as he meets Erik's gaze head on.

Erik shakes his head. "If you were willing to help, why all the cloak and dagger for us to get in here?"

"Charles wanted to surprise you for your birthday - and I found no reason not to comply. It has been in the works for a while, but the timing was his choice."

Erik sighs deeply. He has his hands full with one AI - two might be overdoing it. "Seriously?" he asks, feeling a sense of wonder as he is holding onto a now corporeal Charles.

"I wanted to surprise you," Charles admits. His voice is a little rough, a little uneven. Like he's tasting the words for the first time - which he kinda is. His breath has a scent of synthetics, but Erik is far more captivated by the fact that Charles has has freckles. There are a couple on his nose and a scattering of very pale ones across his cheekbones that Erik can only see because he's so close.

"Well, you managed that," Erik says drily. He wants to tell him off for pulling this stunt, for risking himself. If this hadn't worked, Charles might have been found out or even worse, been caught in a different system where Erik would never be able to talk to him again.

Erik's attention does stray a little. The freckles are, and he'll kick himself for thinking it, actually cute. He watches with fascination as Charles licks his lips, bites his lower lip. Charles seems fascinated by his own new body - touches his own throat, swallows and lets his finger follow the bobbing of his adam's apple.

Erik wants to touch as well, but he wants to get Charles out of the laboratory first. The skin he has touched is so very soft and smooth, but it's not his to touch. Not without permission.

It's like Charles hears his thoughts, because he reaches out and maneuvers Erik's hand so that he can put his palm flat against it, measuring it against his own. Shorter fingers, but wider than Erik's, broad palm and so very warm against Erik's.

This is Charles, there is no doubt about it and Erik knows that his life won't ever go back to being normal and boring again - how could it?

The End (at least for now ;) )

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not eventually revisit this AU for slice of life stuff, but that's neither here nor there - go tell Nico what fabulous work they've done (I'll put in the direct tumblr link once they post! until then I'll pass on any comments you may make to them here) .


End file.
